[center][color=FireBrick][h1]Oshea Jackson[/h1][/color][/center]
[center][img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/cb/5c/0b/cb5c0bbe5220d4ad7f22f7156e378b2c.jpg?noindex=1[/img][/center]
[center]"Much to learn, you still have! That was Yoda or somethin', right? That's a bad little green dude."[/center]
A grin. Oshea rarely smiled, though he was always welcoming and did his best to be approachable. He was joyed that Charlie wasn't turned away by his plaintive speech. Though this was only Oshea's second mission as an X man, he knew well the steeled nerve one needed to function in the field. It was a skill he had learned long before he'd ever thought of coming to the X Mansion: resilience. Poverty was the finest craftsmen, its hands heavy, its tools unfair and keen. A hungry stomach, the constant wonder of when that stomach would be filled again--these hardened the mind and body to expect nothing and to learn to receive what he could get for himself.

Here, that would include forcibly ensuring the safety of his teammates, regardless of how well his body was holding up at present.

Oshea's grin faded, he turned to Charlie with a glare more sly, [color=FireBrick]"You'd have to catch me first, young blood."[/color]